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by gingergenower



Series: Five Times Spider-Man Panics (and one time Peter Parker doesn't) [5]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, CHAPTER 2 IS THE REQUEST/GIFT, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gun Violence, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-20 16:02:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11924358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingergenower/pseuds/gingergenower
Summary: Peter Parker always was a hero.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WingsWithoutStrings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsWithoutStrings/gifts), [Nyxelestia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxelestia/gifts), [Flame_Of_Ice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flame_Of_Ice/gifts), [yellowvalley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowvalley/gifts).



Arm linked with MJ’s, Peter listens to her explain the basic plot of _Frankenstein_ to Ned. She mentioned in class that Mary Shelley invented the sci-fi genre with it and Ned hasn’t stopped asking questions since, shuffling together down the packed school halls to the front entrance.

Ned promises he’ll get a copy from the library, but MJ rolls her eyes and sticks a hand in her bag and shoves her own battered copy at him. ‘You’re officially inducted into my book club. There aren’t late fees but if you lose borrowed books or don’t give them a fair chance I reserve the right to beat you with my hardback _War and Peace_.’

‘Can I borrow that after him?’ Peter asks, peering over her shoulder at Ned, who ignored her threats and started reading the blurb.

MJ smiles slightly, glancing down to make sure she doesn’t miss the first step down to the street. ‘C’mon, Parker, we all know you’re far too busy studying for decathlon every single night to bother with books.’

‘Oh, yeah, you’re right- decathlon. Because I’m a responsible student like that.’

She turns back to Ned, answering something else he asks, and even though Peter’s looking their way he doesn’t hear either of them. 

There’s a shiver up his spine and he’s only got time to make one move. Shoving MJ sideways into Ned so hard they both stagger into the rail, Peter’s vaguely aware of the crowd around him scattering, the screams and the shrieking, some kids scrambling back into the school or running down the street but all of them away from Peter. 

He swallows, turning, and a semi-automatic handgun levels at his chest. He raises his hands, staring at the gunman.

He’s dressed like a soldier, black tactical gear and hands practiced and comfortable holding the gun, but he’s wearing a mask. He jerks the gun sideways, voice gruff. ‘Move.’

Peter nods. He’s got to get the gun away from the school, even if that means playing along.

His suit’s in his backpack- not an option- but he doesn’t even have his web shooters on. He’s just taking a step, wondering if he could wait for a quiet moment to grab them, when MJ yanks his arm so hard he staggers and she can step out between him and the gunman.

‘ _No_ ,’ MJ spits, staring down the gun pointed at her face.

Peter shoves her behind him, one hand tight around her arm and the other outstretched to the gunman, not taking his eyes off him. ‘Don’t hurt her. Don’t. I’m coming, ok? I’m coming.’

‘Peter, don’t you dare-’

‘Please,’ he says. 

Her breathing’s unsteady, clutching his hoodie, and he waits. Even if he could protect her, even if he didn’t care about his secret identity and he snatched the gun out of the air, someone still might get hurt. That can’t happen.

Slowly, her hands falls to the strap of his backpack, and she speaks so low he knows her lips barely move. ‘Bag.’

Peter pushes her back towards Ned and she drags his backpack off his shoulder, taking it with her, but the gunman doesn’t mention it. He follows the gunman’s orders and walks out into the street, and there’s a van pulled up on the curb, side door flung open. Peter already knows that’s where they’re headed, but his neck crawls, exposed to the gun and knowing he’ll be vulnerable without his suit.

‘Get in.’ 

Once they shut the doors on him Peter’s going to make his move, he’s can’t afford to wait. He’s got too much to lose. 

Clambering up, he’s met by another masked man who pats him down and tosses Peter’s phone out onto the sidewalk. Peter’s eyes follow it smash into the cement, splintering into pieces, and that’s his mistake.

The butt of a gun smacks him in the back of the head knocks him out cold.

***

Peter’s head throbs. He huffs out a noise of disgust. He might throw up, and the concept of “up” is hard to implement, and he can’t see.

He’s got concussion, probably not that bad.

Blinking several times, he realises there’s a hood pulled over his head. His wrists and ankles are chained to a chair, but before he can focus someone marches towards him and rips the hood off.

Face crumpling against the light, Peter squints at the rooms. There are three men in the same black uniform, all wearing masks. One twirls his gun compulsively around his finger, one’s sat on another chair in the corner of the room, and the last moves back from Peter, watching him with disinterest.

Across the room, there’s a video camera plugged into a laptop with a red light blinking, and Peter drops his head back. 

Of course they’re already livestreaming this. No need to give Peter any wiggle room to use his powers without the whole internet seeing it. He doesn’t have a secret identity to protect.

Still hazy, Peter takes a couple of seconds to realise Mr Interest is holding up prompt cards. He strains to see them, stringing the sentences together.

‘Uh… my name’s Peter Parker, I work for Tony Stark… well, no, actually, I have an internship, that’s not the- same thing, anyway, I work with Tony Stark. If he doesn’t agree to- next card, dude- a ransom of $100 million they’re going… wait, this is about his _money_?’

Twirly flicks his gun into his hand and shoots at Peter’s feet.

‘Right! Reading, shit, um- oh.’ Peter reads the next card twice, but it doesn’t change. He swallows. ‘If Tony Stark doesn’t publicly agree to comply with their demands in the next hour he can watch them put a bullet in my brain.’

Peter stares at the floor. Tony’s probably dropping into the FBI database right now to borrow their tracking equipment, getting FRIDAY to track the van via security cameras, launching an Iron Man suit when he’s not even ready to get in it. 

Tony’s going to separate their bodies from their heads.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Peter stares hard at the men, but only the one sitting down looks back. ‘Don’t you have families? Someone waiting on you getting home?’

The gun stutters in Twirly’s hand, and he glares at Peter.

‘Was this seriously your best get-rich-quick plan?’

‘Shut up,’ Mr Interest advises, throwing a hand out to stop Twirly starting towards Peter.

Watching them with a wary eye, Peter waits until Twirly settles back into the rhythm with his gun before his slouches in the chair, chin resting on his chest. He doesn’t know how long he was unconscious, so he’s got no idea when Tony will show up. 

He’s just wondering how he might talk these guys into letting him go when something sharp and metal, directly over his heart and hidden under his t-shirt, adjusts.

Peter glances down.

There’s a barely-noticeable, raised lump there. It emits a tiny chirrup-hum-whistle, only loud enough to Peter to hear, and he struggles to hold back a smile.

MJ took his backpack with his suit in. She took it so she could send Droney after him, and at some point while he was unconscious Droney crawled under his shirt and Tony already knows where he is. He’s probably on his way.

The relief lasts for three seconds, and then Peter looks at the men again.

They haven’t got any time and they don’t even know it, but they’ve probably got people waiting for them too.

Everyone deserves to go home.

‘You do know Tony Stark’s not going to pay that ransom, don’t you?’ Peter asks, and they turn to stare at him. He shrugs, face impassive. ‘He’s not going to on principle- not giving in to terrorists and all that. Official government policy.’

Droney whirs in disapproval.

‘You’re dead if he doesn’t,’ Mr Interest says lightly, but Twirly grips the gun hard.

‘Do you not remember the Mandarin? He told that guy his _address_. You should probably come up with a Plan B because it’s entirely possible he’ll hold a press conference just to say fuck you.’

Twirly strides into frame, grabbing Peter’s hair and ripping his head back, gun pressing into his throat. ‘If he does that we’ll figure out a different way to kill you. You’ll die _screaming_.’

May’s probably watching this. Peter really hopes she isn’t. ‘Cool. You still won’t get your money.’

Twirly drives a punch so hard into Peter’s gut he blacks out for a second.

Retching, winded and coughing, Peter gasps for breath and blinks away tears. He’s barely aware of the other two dragging Twirly back, but he hears Mr Interest muttering that Stark cares too much, he’ll pay for the sake of a kid.

‘You should’ve done more research,’ Peter rasps. It’s like they have no idea who they’re dealing with. ‘This was a stupid plan. _He’s not going to pay you_.’

Droney stabs him, a message from Tony- shut up.

‘You’re really so sure he’s going to let a fifteen year old die?’

These guys don’t know what they’re doing; they have no idea what kind of danger they’re putting themselves in. He needs to give them a chance to back out.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Peter meets their gazes. ‘He’s not going to let me die.’

‘…the hell does that mean?’

‘He’s coming to get me.’ May’s watching and Ned’s watching and MJ’s watching and everyone he knows is watching. He doesn’t waver. ‘Right now.’

‘How would you even know that?’

Droney stabs him again. ‘Because I know him.’

‘He’s got no idea what he’s talking about-’

‘He’s on his way,’ Peter insists. ‘Please, please, just get out of his way, he won’t care about you as long as you don’t try to stop him getting me out-’

‘Shut up-’

‘-he wants me safe, that’s all he wants-’

‘I said _shut up_.’

‘I’m trying to help you! You didn’t threaten Tony Stark, you pissed off an Avenger, you need to listen to me-’

‘He’s not coming,’ Twirly says, levelling his gun at Peter’s face.

Pressing his tongue in his cheek, considering Twirly, Peter wants shake his head. ‘Are you willing to bet your life on that? Because I just did.’

Twirly hesitates, turning to the others.

‘…Stark, if you show your face here we will kill him.’

‘We’ve got to move-’

‘We should leave him-’

‘He’s the only shield we’ve got.’

‘Get him,’ Mr Interest says, but the third one, the one who’s been mostly quiet the entire time shakes his head, already backing towards the door.

‘You heard the kid, he doesn’t want us.’

‘Just go,’ Peter says, nodding. ‘He won’t care-’

‘We need that money-’

‘I need to get home,’ the quiet one says. ‘My girl-’

‘I’m not backing out now,’ Twirly spits.

‘Tony, don’t kill them,’ Peter says to the lens. ‘Please don’t, please-’

‘ _Shut up_ -’

‘We should move him.’

‘Do we have time?’

‘I’m out-’

‘ _Just go_ -’

Iron Man crashes through the ceiling, bringing half of it down with him. He’s directly between Peter and the men, staring them down, and there’s a beat where they all stare at each other.

Twirly raises his gun and Iron Man backhands the three of them with one swipe. Smacking into the wall, they’re unconscious before they hit the wall.

Head dropping forwards, Peter breathes out. ‘Hey.’

Yanking Peter free of the chair, helmet melted away, Tony stands Peter up checks him over, eyes searching him. ‘You alright, kid?’

‘You didn’t have 100 million to spare?’

‘They didn’t ask nicely,’ Tony says, moving Peter’s head so he can look at it properly.

‘Um, ow? Also, they might need an ambulance. That was pretty violent.’

‘I have aggression issues, been talking it through with a therapist, apparently it’s something to do with when people want my money,’ Tony says, squinting into Peter’s eyes. ‘Yeah, you’re concussed.’

‘There’s only three of you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Tony narrows his eyes at Peter but turns away, yanking the camera off its tripod to point it at the unconscious men. ‘Just so we’re clear, this is what threatening my people looks like.’ He crumples the camera in his fist and drops it to the ground, the feed cut off.

Swaying a little, Peter sits back down and pockets Droney, but Tony can’t seem to look away from the men he knocked out. 

‘What were you thinking?’

‘I was trying to give them another way out.’

‘They would’ve killed you.’

‘Yeah.’

Tony scrubs his face, turning to Peter. ‘We need you home. Do you get that? May doesn’t care about these guys, I don’t care about these guys, we want _you_ home, _you’re_ the one that matters-’

‘Everyone matters.’

They stare each other down, but Tony’s the one to look away first, pressing his fingers to his temples. Peter swallows.

‘Will you call 911? They got rid of my phone.’

‘…right.’

***

The FBI are on site in minutes, but Tony’s gone with Peter by the time they arrive. Peter isn’t really aware of the journey, leaning into Tony even when they’ve landed, but Tony takes his weight and walks him to his own front door.

May throws the door open and yanks Peter into a hug. Over her shoulder, MJ and Ned hover and Tony stumbles into the apartment, shaking off his suit and shutting the door behind them.

Clinging on to May, Peter closes his eyes and breathes her in, steady while she cries.

He owes her this much.

When Ned and MJ get their turns hugging him, he realises how dizzy he feels. They sit him on the couch, Tony already calling a doctor to the apartment, and Peter slumps into the cushions.

‘I have half a mind to get my copy of _War and Peace_ ,’ MJ mutters, curling up into his side.

‘I thought that was a book club thing?’

‘It’s not exclusive to the book club. Stupid people also can receive hardback-beatings.’

In the kitchen with Tony, May talks to him in low voices, but Peter doesn’t try to listen, just snorts when Ned informs him he looks like shit.

‘I got kidnapped, man.’

‘And punched.’

‘Mm.’

‘I have a question,’ MJ asks, burrowing closer, like she can hide inside him. ‘Are you the dumbest human I know, or am I for dating you?’

Kissing her hair, Peter smiles. ‘Definitely you.’

‘Hm.’

As Peter’s eyes droop, Tony tells them to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep until the doctor gets here, and Peter rolls his head back to look at him.

‘Thank you for rescuing me.’

Tony doesn’t answer, instead flicking Peter behind the ear. ‘Takeout?’

‘Yes please.’

‘You two?’

‘Yeah,’ Peter says for Ned and MJ, who roll their eyes at each other but don’t argue. ‘Is that ok, May?’

‘Of course,’ May says, cupping his cheek briefly, as though checking he’s real. ‘Both of you, stay as long as you like.’

After the doctor leaves with Peter’s concussion declared minor, only needing supervision for the next 12 hours, they tuck into the food. MJ and Ned poke fun at Tony and May laughs along, declaring them “not her kids” when Tony asks for backup but pretending to scold Peter when he joins in.

Sharing meaningful looks with May, letting MJ hold him as tight as she likes, grinning when Ned interrogates Tony about his first arc reactor- this is what Peter was thinking of. Everyone deserves to have this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for WingsWithoutStrings, Nyxelestia, Chris, Flame_Of_Ice, and yellowvalley! I know this isn't exactly what any of you requested, but this is what came out <3

Peter’s missed three days of school. Most kids his age would be traumatised by a kidnapping, according to May, and the doctor recommended he take at least a week off from strenuous activity between the concussion and cracked rib he didn’t notice he had. To console them both, he agreed to get his work emailed to him and stay home for a while.

In the end, though, May told him to go back. He’s pretty sure he irritated her, being around as much as he was with nothing to do.

Almost missing the sleek black Audi pulled up outside the front of his building on the fourth day, his earphones in and head down, Peter jumps when Happy honks the horn and rolls down the window, face sour.

Peter leans down to him. ‘What’s up?’

‘Get in,’ Happy says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

‘I mean, I was going to get a train…’

‘Get your ass in the car.’

‘…right.’ He hops in the back- Tony’s waiting for him. ‘Hey! Um, you really didn’t have to-’

‘Yeah we did,’ Tony says. Happy waits until Peter’s got his seatbelt on before pulling off, and Tony takes his sunglasses off, hooking them down the front of his shirt. ‘Natasha sends her love. She says she’s glad you’re not dead.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘She’s never said anything like that to me,’ Tony sniffs, patting down his pockets until he finds what he’s after, ‘so I think you’re one of her favourite people.’

Peter grins, and Tony fishes a phone out of his pocket and tosses it at Peter, who catches it with cupped hands.

‘I managed to salvage all the data on your old phone, but I figured I could give you an upgrade.’

Staring at the Stark phone, Peter realises he’s holding one Tony’s made, maybe by hand. He hadn’t even talked about getting a replacement with May yet.

‘I’ve put Karen in there,’ Tony says, ‘and she’s got Baby Monitor protocol now. You’re welcome.’

‘And Baby Monitor is…?’ Peter turns the phone over in his hands, pressing random buttons and trying to figure out what they do.

‘Karen will listen to you, low level stalking, all the time. If she decides there’s an active threat she’ll alert me and the feds and whichever Avengers are around so we can step in and help.’

‘…I think that might be creepy,’ Peter muses, and the phone’s got the same pin as his old one and it’s all laid out the same, down to the lock screen picture of MJ tickling Ned and the home screen of May, Ben and him when Peter was about 13.

‘It’s nearly creepy,’ Tony shrugs, ‘except May said I could. So no whining.’

Peter shakes his head. ‘It’s not like you’re going to listen in on me, are you?’

‘Karen’s ears only until you’re in trouble.’

A text buzzes through, from a contact Peter did not have before, what the hell-

_Have a good day back at school, Peter._

-from Captain Beefcake.

‘Is that-? Oh my god.’

‘Tell Cap to go back to cuddling his flag if he gets annoying,’ Tony says, glancing at Peter’s screen.

‘Have I actually got Captain America’s number? On my phone?’

‘You’ve got all the Avengers.’

Peter blinks.

‘Except Thor. Thor doesn’t have a phone.’

Thinking of the three men who succeeded in kidnapping him, and how Tony took them out with one backhand, this seems like overkill, except Peter knows Tony. He tries to prepare for everything, tries to save everyone before they’re even hurt. His not considering Peter Parker might get hurt is probably haunting him.

Leaning over, Peter hugs him and holds on tight. ‘Thanks, Tony.’

‘Get off,’ Tony says, adjusting so he can hold Peter properly.

Peter’s the one who pulls back first, Tony straightening his jacket and clearing his throat, Happy saying nothing in the front, eyes resolutely on the road. Peter taps out a response to Steve ( _thank you!! I will!!_ ) but doesn’t send it, glancing between the other two. Something clicks. ‘…you’ve put Happy on as a security details for me, haven’t you?’

‘No,’ Tony says, putting his sunglasses back on.

‘Happy?’

‘Nope,’ Happy says, still expressionless.

‘Does May know about it?’

‘Do you think she’d like the idea?’

‘Tony, I don’t need security.’

‘Wrong.’

‘You can’t drive me to school every day-’

‘Oh, we’re not going to.’ Tony relaxes back into his seat. ‘Look, we have a plan, you just have to go along with whatever we say.’

Peter’s eyes narrow. ‘What exactly am I going along with?’

‘You don’t have to say or do anything, kid, just let us handle it.’

There’s something unsettled in Peter’s chest. He doesn’t like not being told everything. ‘What is this plan, exactly?’

‘Long and convoluted.’

‘C’mon, Tony, don’t-’

‘I’m against it, just so we’re clear,’ Happy points out.

‘Yes, you’ve been clear several times,’ Tony says over the rim of his sunglasses. ‘It’s not up for discussion, kid. The adults have decided.’

‘Happy thinks it’s a bad idea.’

‘Cap signed off on it,’ Tony says, and Peter doesn’t have an answer to that. ‘Now, what’ve you got today?’

‘Classes,’ Peter mutters, scrolling through his new contacts and finding Natasha’s name (Black Death), and he asks her what the plan is.

‘Remember, you can use the “I was kidnapped” excuse for at least a week.’

‘Yay.’

‘How’s your aunt, by the way?’

‘She’s a still a bit…’ Peter waves his hand around. ‘I wish she hadn’t watched it.’

‘There’s a lesson somewhere in there about not getting kidnapped again,’ Tony says, and Peter rolls his eyes, and doesn’t answer. ‘Your friends were freaked out too.’

‘They’re ok,’ Peter says. 

Ned bombarded him with a string of Harry Potter themed gifs last night, a commentary on the episode of the tv show he was watching (“sheer, dumb luck” to “no offence, but I really don’t care” to “that’s barbaric!”)- and asked if Peter wanted to get pizza at one of the older local places at some point this week.

Catching sight of Tony’s disbelieving face, Peter rolls his eyes. ‘It was a bit- well, yeah, it was probably scary to watch, but they’ll be ok.’

He’s a superhero with a bunch of superhero friends. He was always going to be fine.

Happy looks at Tony meaningfully in the mirror, and Tony sits up. ‘Right, kid. The Plan. When we get to Midtown, walk right inside, don’t hang around, don’t talk to anyone. Right?’

‘There’s going to be paparazzi there, isn’t there?’

‘Probably some, yes.’

‘Tony-’

‘If you screw up Natasha’s plan, you can explain it to her.’

Peter drops against the headrest. On the one hand, it’s Natasha, so it’ll work. On the other hand, there’s a reason Tony doesn’t want to tell him what it is and it’s distinctly unsettling not knowing what Tony’s about to do.

Something stupid, probably.

‘Just-’ Peter says as the car pulls up outside Midtown. ‘Don’t do anything, like, bad, for me. Ok?’

Tony gives a salute of agreement Peter knows he doesn’t mean. ‘If anyone asks, you don’t know me very well and I didn’t know your name until you were kidnapped. Right?’

Peter pauses. ‘But I said I knew you really well to those guys.’

‘You were desperate so that was a lie,’ Tony says, and the car pulls to a stop. ‘Have a good day at school, kid.’

‘Thanks, Tony.’

Bag grabbed and new phone pocketed, Peter swallows, but Tony gets out of the car without hesitation. Happy’s already out.

Peter knows he’s small, in the grand scheme of things, and that Tony would do this for any of the Avengers, but he’s not a soldier. He’s a kid with a mask; he hasn’t been taught to take orders, he throws himself into bad situations and hopes he can crawl his way back out of them alive.

Letting other people take a fall for him is uncomfortable, particularly when the stakes are so high.

Taking a deep breath, Peter clambers out of the car- there’s already a crowd of kids around Tony, clamouring for selfies Tony obliges, not even glancing in Peter’s direction.

Eyes meeting Peter’s for a second, Happy pointedly looks at the entrance.

Shouldering his bag, Peter darts through the crowd, not saying a word even when people say his name or stand in his way, asking obnoxious questions.

His phone buzzes in his pocket- a response from Natasha. 

_There’s been too much suggestion Tony likes you personally. We’re going to convince the media he doesn’t care about you and that it was more that his ego took a hit when they kidnapped you. We’re going to convince the public he cares more about himself than you with a view of making sure no one tries to take you again._

Peter briefly closes his eyes, and swallows down the lump in his throat.

Exactly what he doesn’t want.

_please look after him_

_As much as I can._

_does pepper know?_

_She’s here right now._

_will you let me know if he needs me?_

_It’s going to be fine, Peter. Have a good day at school._

Peter takes the dismissal and flips the phone over in his hands a few times. When he looks up, he realises he’s inside and the whole corridor’s watching him.

What really surprises him is how most of them don’t look away when he sees them, staring at him like he said they could, and Peter looks back down at his own feet. Maybe he should’ve stayed at home.

Peter moves, going to find Ned, but Flash steps out in front of him.

Flash fidgets, chewing the inside of his cheek and rubbing his hands together, but he makes eye contact. ‘Parker.’

‘Hi.’

Everyone’s keeping a weird few inches distant from them in a way no one normally does down the corridors. Peter’s pretty sure he’s getting a migraine, which he hasn’t had since he got his powers. It’s going to be an exhausting day.

‘…can I go past, or-?’

‘I just- um,’ Flash says, swallowing. ‘If anyone says anything, or something, I promise it won’t be me.’

Peter pauses. ‘Right.’

Looking like he’s struggling to phrase what he wants to say, Flash settles on, ‘I’m glad you’re not dead,’ and walks away, disappearing back into the crowd.

Too tired to be pleased with Flash’s version of nice, Peter’s more exhausted by it than anything, and he carries on to his locker, head down. Besides, Tony’s out there hurting his own image just to protect Peter. It’s hard not to go outside and shout about how Tony never runs out of caring, he never stops thinking about how to look after everyone around him.

Hiding behind his locker door, he considers bolting to the restroom until class starts and accepting the late just to stop people staring, but a hand slips into his and he feels like he can breathe again.

Sighing, he leans into MJ. ‘Hey.’

‘I bring good news,’ she says conversationally, playing with his hand. ‘Apparently, you’re attractive now. Congratulations.’

Squinting at her, he’s not got the energy to ask, so she explains.

‘You defended me and everyone who’s attracted to men suddenly thinks you’re hot because of it. I’ve never been the centre of so much resentment before, it’s quite refreshing.’

He straightens up, hand under her chin so he can hold her gaze and study her expression. It doesn’t sound alright, but she seems genuinely unperturbed by it, if not a little amused. ‘Are you-?’

‘Yep,’ she says, prodding his bicep. ‘It’s great. I had a twelve-minute conversation yesterday with some of the girls in history about your arms.’

Peter smiles, because they both know she’s trying to distract him and he loves her so, so much. ‘Yeah?’

‘We concluded that while puberty looking on you so favourably was unfair, it did mean you make excellent arm candy,’ she says. ‘And the world finally understands why I decided to date you.’

‘Because I make good arm candy?’

‘Well, it wasn’t your personality.’

Shaking his head, he pulls her into a hug and breathes her in. ‘I _knew_ my abs sealed it.’

‘I assume it was my stunning wit that attracted you,’ she says, flicking his locker shut behind him. 

‘Nope. I like your butt.’

MJ grins, pulling back and taking his hand to walk to class together.

The crowds would be easier to navigate if they let go of each other, but neither of them want to, and he threads his fingers through hers. ‘This is so weird,’ he mutters, and her thumb strokes the back of his hand.

‘Yeah.’

One of the football players’ gazes lingers on MJ as they pass him, but she doesn’t even notice. Sorry, Midtown. Peter beat you to it and he’s not letting her go unless she says he has to.

‘I’m not the only that’s attractive now, apparently.’

She frowns, looking back down the corridor. ‘Me?’

‘You did stare down the barrel of a gun for me,’ Peter says, holding her hand up to kiss the back of it. ‘By the way, don’t do that again.’

‘Oh, ok.’

‘Seriously. Don’t,’ he says, and she smiles.

‘You’re not bulletproof.’

‘Neither are you.’

She stops walking. Her face shifts, as though trying to gauge his mood, but when she realises he’s serious she drops his hand, and he sighs.

‘I can deal with that kind of thing. Let me handle it.’

‘…right. No,’ she says, like she doesn’t really believe they’re having this conversation. 

Peter folds his arms in on himself. He’s too tired for this. He needed her to say yes. ‘MJ, please don’t-’

‘I didn’t stand in front of you because I thought I could survive getting shot better than you could,’ she says, trying to keep calm. ‘I did it because I love you and I couldn’t watch you get hurt. I thought you’d understand that-’

‘I don’t care why you did it,’ Peter tells her. ‘I said don’t.’

‘You do realise this isn’t the 1800’s, right? You’re my boyfriend, not my master; you can’t give me orders.’

Peter does have a headache now. ‘I just need you to trust me-’

‘This isn’t about trust, this is about me making the same decisions as you and you being unable to accept it.’

‘You’re only going to get yourself hurt,’ Peter spits, because he can’t stop Tony taking falls for him but he’s not going to let MJ do the same, ‘and it’s not like you did any good, you nearly got a face full of bullet and I _still_ got kidnapped.’

Picking out a few of her tells- unblinking, jaw tight, staring him down- Peter figures she’s pissed off and he’s almost glad he’s said it until he realises her eyes are filling with tears.

Anger dissipates and he looks away, its replacement guilt.

‘I don’t know if you remember,’ she says, forcing her voice steady, ‘but I’m the one who planted Droney on you. I’m the one that meant Tony could trace you.’

Peter’s scared. He never thought he’d see someone point a gun at her, supposed to be some big hero and he’s just scared, he’s hurting everyone, even May crashed out on the couch because she hasn’t been sleeping because of him. Tony’s out there trying to get himself crucified by the press. This is what his heroism looks like, skittish fear that barely keeps everyone around him alive-

He bows his head, looking anywhere but her. ‘I didn’t mean that. I just- shit.’

‘Hey.’

Forcing himself to, he meets her steady gaze.

MJ doesn’t say anything, reaching up to brush away his tears, so he listens to her breathing and tries to match it.

He can’t protect everyone. He wants to anyway. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know.’ 

‘I want you _safe_.’

‘I want you safe too.’ Something she’ll never really have; he'll never give her that. She takes a step back, turning to go to class.

He catches her wrist, his eyes certain now. ‘I love you too.’

She nods, turning to go to class, but Peter doesn’t follow, scrubbing his face. He wants to go back to bed.

‘You alright?’ Ned asks, at Peter’s elbow.

‘…not really, no.’

‘Anything I can do?’

‘I’m really done with people getting hurt for me,’ Peter says, dropping his hands and staring after her retreating back. He can’t stop her, he can’t stop Tony, he can’t stop any of it.

‘So, no.’

‘No.’

Ned nudges him. ‘C’mon, we’re gonna be late.’

‘Right.’ 

He can’t stop any of it; he can be late for class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm off to do my masters! (lol like this isn't the most terrifying thing I've ever tried to take on) so I'm probably going to drop off the grid for a while. I'm really sorry about that, but I need to justify dropping 13 grand on me basically avoiding getting a job, and I figure good grades is the way to do that.

**Author's Note:**

> this one has bugged me and continues to bug me pls lemme know if it's terrible


End file.
